


in my dreams, you were beside me

by Lxie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Disclaimer reality dysmorphia/dissociation, Dreams, Dreams vs. Reality, Dreamscapes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gaslighting, Hurt/Comfort, Lance-centric, M/M, Minor Klance, Sort Of, and I mean it this time, do not read if you got issues with either of those, don't worry there'll be an epilogue, just throwing that out there, klsadjfksl, lots of feels, takes place somewhere around the time Keith left but who knows when
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21949765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lxie/pseuds/Lxie
Summary: Lance is finally back home. Back from school and ready to spend time with his family and boyfriend.Or at least that's what they tell him.Things aren't adding up. His instincts and foggy memories aren't matching with what's being told to him. On top of the blinding headaches and voices that rattle his brain, he needs to find out what's happening to him before he's stuck there. Forever.
Relationships: Allura & Coran & Hunk & Keith & Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt & Shiro, Keith/Lance (Voltron), Lance & Lance's Family (Voltron), Lance & Voltron Paladins
Comments: 29
Kudos: 161





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [topicalginger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/topicalginger/gifts).



> IT'S A CHRISTMAS MIRICLE!!!! I GOT THIS DONE IN TIME FOR CHRISTMAS!!!
> 
> MERRY CHRYSLER TOPICALGINGER!!!!
> 
> Also, in case you didn't see in the tags but if you have issues of dissociating of determining reality from fantasy and paranoia around that I would suggest reading something else bc there will be a lot of Lance doubting his reality and soft (???) gaslighting around that. 
> 
> Okay! Be safe and I hope you enjoy!!!

_There’s a ringing in his ears._

_—ance_

_—nce_

_come on_

_—et up_

_get up_

_It’s really high. And it hurts. Like it’s stabbing into his brain._

_shit_

_we gotta where is_

_where is_

_where where where wherewherewherewhere_

_He was sitting down. Somewhere. A blanket wraps around his mind and he winces. Nono not yet. He has to find out where he is._

_Sirens blare and he’s floating._

_People screaming in his ear._

_get up_

_lance_

_not moving_

_where_

_wake up wake up_

_wake up wake up move_

_wake up_

_Tries to open his eyes but they’re heavy. Too heavy his mind is screaming there’s something in his hand but he doesn’t know what he doesn’t know where—_

_The screaming gets louder, higher, until they’re not voices but a never-ending scream._

_Can’t they stop screaming for one minute?!_

_Be quiet! he shouts. His hands grip his hair, pulling on the root. Be quiet so I can_ think _!_

_But they—it—only get louder. Pitchier. Like a dog whistle and he’s the dog. Telling him to heel. Commanding him to listen. But he doesn’t **want** to. He just wants quiet._

_Please be quiet, please be quiet, please be—_

_The blanket comes back. It muffles everything. Tells it to be quiet. Peace. And he can finally relax for a minute. He sighs, relaxing into its hold. The blissful darkness wrapping around him and…_

_And…_

_The screams burst through like an explosion coming to a head until there’s nothing left. Not a whisper no blanket nothing_

_He opens his eyes and there’s nothing. He’s standing in nothing. A yawning dark abyss and there’s a hand._

_He looks down. A hand on his shoulder, gentle but firm. Familiar. He turns around and—_

_\--it’s him_

_He stares at the reflection of him. Familiar blue eyes and a smile he once used for someone else who was struggling. His reflection opens its mouth and with his voice tells him to_

**_“Wake up.”_ **

He wakes up.

He barely registered that a person is hovering in front of him before he shoots up, their heads colliding.

"Ay, fijate, estupido!"

Lance groaned and rubs his throbbing forehead, looking up to see Rachel holding her palms to her head. _”You_ watch it, stupid.”

It takes a doobosh. Maybe two. His brain shaking off the hold sleep had on him before he fully realizes that— _holy shit,_ it’s _Rachel._

Before he knows it he lunged forward, his sister yelping as he grabbed her around the waist and dragged her into a crushing hug. He buried his nose into her shoulder, breathing in the detergent their mom uses and he’s _home_.

 _Home_.

He’s _home_. Back on Earth and

_he was floating_

_suspended_

_screaming_

_screaming_

_screaming_

_screaming_

_wake up_

He let go slowly, still clinging as his sister pushed him off her with a pout before fixing her wrinkled shirt. “How’d I get here?”

She shot him a dirty look and he _ached._ It was her “are you stupid” look and he never thought he would miss something that used to annoy him so much but it punched something out in his chest.

“By car?” she huffed, getting up from the bed. “You weren’t _that_ out of it, Leandro. Mamá is making breakfast and your boyfriend is getting milk ‘cuz the twins drank it all, so you better get your butt down there and help set up.”

“Boyfriend?”

Rachel rolled her eyes, as she leaned against the doorframe. _”Yes_ , you’re dark and handsome boyfriend, no need to rub it in.” She turned to him with a smirk. “So if you don’t want me to tell to Mamá to get the baby pictures out I suggest you get down there, hermano.”

He felt twitchy and he didn’t know why. Cold. Confused. Like he was missing something but he didn’t know what. He was back but from where? Somewhere far away his heart told him but he couldn’t place _where_. Boyfriend? He…he didn’t have a clue who it could be. He should know who his boyfriend is.

What happened to him?

Rachel’s brow creased with concern as he continued to stare, not saying anything. “You okay, hermano?”

He looked down. Looked away. Where the spaceship dotted blankets bunched around his bare waist. He rubbed his eyes. There wasn’t any screaming. “Yeah, I’m good. Just tired.”

“Okay,” Rachel drawled before sighing. “Okay, obviously since something is messing with you, I’ll be nice and convince Mamá to not take out the baby books. You owe me.” She punctuated the last statement with a finger stabbing in his direction.

He huffed out a laugh. “Thanks.”

She gave him a small smile, closing the door as she left.

He sprung up and looked around the room. It _looked_ like his room. It looked exactly how he left it. It looked _familiar_.

Somehow that wasn’t as comforting as he thought it would be.

His fingers skimmed over his eleven-year-old bedspread, obsessed with flying and going up to space. The books, the posters, the mirror hung up on the back of his closet door, even the haphazard pile of clothes in the corner of the room.

Everything was the same. Nothing was out of place or, or, _sinister_. But it all felt like a shirt he outgrew. Looked the same, felt the same, smelled the same but too tight. Uncomfortable. Constricting. Familiar but changed and not-quite-right.

Even stretching had that not-quite-right feeling. Something missing but _he. Can’t. Tell._

He looked into the mirror to see if _he’s_ changed at all. Maybe the entire world was fine. Perfect. Normal. But _he_ wasn’t. Like he was an imposter. Or a fake.

A clone.

What the fuck? No. No. That’s stupid. He’s Lance. He is Lance McClain.

His reflection stared back and he looked…. normal.

Same blue eyes, same brown hair, same brown skin. Nothing out of place except the fact he was still in his boxers. He stared and stared. Looking for _anything_ not-quite-right or out-of-place until his reflection _did_ start looking a little alien from staring too long.

Closing his eyes, he thunked his head against the mirror. Opening them, blue eyes glared back at him. He jabbed at the surface with his finger, smudging it. “You are Lance McClain. _You_ are Lance McClain. _I’m_ Lance McClain.”

He huffed a breath through his nose, satisfied. Gathering up his clothes he left the room.

He didn’t notice that his reflection didn’t leave with him.

-

“Get to the red lion!”

“It’s too far I can’t!” _“Fuck!”'_

“Lance, please respond!”

“I’m pinned down!”

“Shit!” 

“The Hyplisians! They’re under attack!”

“I need backup!”

“Everyone! Focus!”

“But Lance!”

“The red lion’s not moving!” 

“Come on, Lance!” “Get up, buddy!”

“Lance!” “No!” _”No!”_

“Where are they taking him?!”

“Lance!”

“Lance!” 

“Where are they going?!” “LANCE!”

“SOMEONE GET HIM.”

“WAKE UP!”

“Wake up, Lance!” “We gotta get him!”

“WE NEED BACKUP!” “Wake up!”

“Lance! Wake the fuck up!” 

“Everyone focus! We’ll get him back! Allura?” 

“Coran, contact the Blade of Marmora!”

“Someone, call Keith.”

-

“Keep him happy. Got it.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

-

Lance went downstairs cautiously.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to jump out of the shadows and spook him. The high tension that one gets when walking through a haunted house. Skin prickling, nerves drawn tight.

It’s just his family. He shouldn’t be so nervous around his family.

Was there something he was going to do? Something to talk about with them?

He stepped into the kitchen. And he smiled.

Rachel was at the table dodging Marco’s attempts to snatch her bacon. Marco’s hand in her face as he tried to grab the food with a shit-eating grin. The twins were attached to Mamá’s hip, nearly drooling from the smell of the bacon as they begged for pieces.

He could see the moment they noticed him. Both of them abandoning their quest for scraps screaming out “Uncle Lance!” and tackling him with hugs.

Tears prickled his eyes as he grabbed them close. Their wiry arms digging into his sides, their fingers sticky with _something_ but he held them close. If he could suspend time to this moment he would.

They squirmed in his grip. “Uh, Uncle Lance?” Nadia eeked out. “You can let us go now.”

He tried but something pierced his heart at the thought. Instead, he growled and scooped them up in his arms and spun them around in an unsteady circle. They squealed in his arms, an undercurrent of laughter threaded through screams.

Eventually, he was able to let them go, tottering over to plop them at the table where their breakfast was waiting. He ruffled Sylvio’s hair, the curls he got from his mom fluffing up.

“Where’s Luis and Lisa?”

“Work,” Marco answered, finally swiping a piece of bacon off of Rachel’s plate much to her disdain. “They just dropped off the gremlins. You just missed Vera, off to teach at your fancy private school.”

“The Garrison?”

Both of his siblings gave him a weird look, Rachel’s face pudgy with food. “The Garrison?” Marco asked, confusion in his voice. “What the hell is that?”

It was his turn to stare at them, confusion bouncing in his head. “It’s my school. It’s the, uh, the…” Something in his mind started hammering at his skull, a high-pitched sound reverberating between his ears. “The…” He rubbed at the space between his eyebrows trying to release whatever tension built up.

Rachel raised an eyebrow, watching him with a mixture of skepticism and concern. “Is this from one of your video games or something?”

Sylvio tugged on his shirt, bright blue eyes beaming up at him. “Yeah! Uncle Lance, it’s from that videogame you showed me! The one with the guns and stuff.”

 _”Guns?!”_ exclaimed Lance’s mother, spinning to look at him, face aghast. "Lance! ¿Por qué le andas enseñando esas cosas? Aun esta muy pequeño para ese tipo de juegos!"

"No, no! Mama, no es lo que piensas; el juego no es de esos tan violentos - ah, oye! Alguien tocó la puerta! Yo abro!"

He ignored the cut off scolding of his mamá and his siblings’ laughter and beelined to the door, throwing it open. His mind screeching to a halt seeing none other than Keith Kogane at the door with a shy smile and a gallon of milk.

“I didn’t know if I could just… _walk_ in or not.”

“Ay, chulo,” his mom cooed coming up behind him and taking the milk from Keith’s hand. “You are welcome any time. You are _familia_.”

“Thank you, Mrs. McClain,” Keith said with a smile. Lance could only watch, mouth agape, as Keith walked in chatting with his mother as she sat him down at the kitchen table.

He marched up to the table, hands up and waving around like it could somehow erase what was happening in front of him like chalk off a chalkboard. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up. When did you guys even meet?”

His mother huffed out a little sound. “Well, last night but you talk about him so often it’s like we already know him.”

Lance’s face burned. Flaring hotter when Keith to look at him with a smug little smirk. He turned to his traitorous mother.

“I can talk about my friends!”

Keith laughed, breathy and amused. He reached out to take Lance’s hand in his, a smile that sent butterflies swirling through Lance’s stomach on his face. “It’s okay, Lance. They know.”

“Yeah, uh, we knew for a _while_ now.” Marco smirked at them; hands full with the plate Mamá gave him. Despite that Rachel still had her arm shielding her plate, hunched over to guard it from sticky fingers.

Lance was having a difficult time trying to understand _just_ what they knew when Keith was. Holding. His. HAND.

He stared dumbly at how Keith’s hand started stroking the back of his with a thumb, sending a shiver down Lance’s spine. “Uh,” why was he holding his hand? Why were they holding hands? And why was he having a heart attack? “Know _what?_ ”

Keith raised a brow at him, unimpressed. His eyes flicked to their hands and back up to Lance as if that was the answer. Which it is _not_. When Lance didn’t do…whatever Keith expected him to do he squinted at him.

“Are you joking? I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.” He stood up and stood in front of Lance, so close he could only see confusion and hurt on his face. Deep indigo eyes flickered between his own, he startled when a gloved hand cupped his cheek. “Lance?”

“I…” His face felt hot. Everything did, burning him from the inside out. And that _damn_ headache again drummed in the back of his skull. He stepped back, the hand falling away from his face, and even though he was somewhere _safe_ he still felt like a cornered animal.

Everything felt like it was moving too fast and too slow at the same time. His family was speaking to him but like they were underwater. Moving slowly, one minute they’re sitting down and the next they’re right behind Keith. Who’s looking at him in a way that just sends him spiraling.

He can finally breathe when two arms wrap around him, one around his waist and the other carding through his hair. The soothing scent of fresh laundry filling his nose as he’s pressed into his mother’s shoulder. His mind finally quieting as his mamá murmurs Spanish in his ear.

More hands stroked over him, soothing pats on his shoulders and back. Two pairs of arms wrapped around his legs. Another hand slipping in his, fingers entwining, and he’s being passed off to Keith.

And he goes. Falling into Keith’s embrace like it’s natural. Keith’s arms coming around him and his nose nuzzling into his hair like it’s second nature. Somehow he smells like a walk on a sunny day. And it’s familiar. In a good way.

“Keith,” his mother started, voice soft, “Why don’t you take him upstairs?”

Keith’s hair tickled his cheek as he nodded. One last squeeze around him before he led him upstairs. His headache was gone but he felt more drained than training with the bots at level 7.

Which is…

…A videogame….

He shook his head. Leaning deeper into Keith to smell that sunshine and fresh air.

Soon they’re crawling into his childhood bed. Under those spaceship sheets. And it feels natural. Organic. Worn in and exciting all at the same time. Something straight out of his daydreams.

They curve into each other, face to face, finding designated spots that already had their name written on in permanent ink. Warm puffs of air fanned over his ear and stirred the baby hairs.

From his place, nestled against his throat, that soothing sunny day scent swirling around his head and calming his heart, he asked, “Am I crazy?”

Keith wrapped his top leg tighter around his waist, his arm around his shoulder gathering him closer. “In a good way? You sing obnoxiously loud pop songs in the morning but I find it cute.”

He thumped his back with a fist. His heart danced in his ribcage at how normal it felt to do that. “I’m serious. Did I hit my head or something? I feel so confused.”

“I don’t know, Lance. But we’ll figure it out.” Soft lips press against his forehead. “Together.”

Lance buried his face in Keith’s chest, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat. “Are we…?”

“We just celebrated our halfiversary or whatever it’s called.”

He had to smile at that. That definitely sounded like him.

A hand cradled the back of his head and guided it away so he could stare into indigo eyes. His heart slowed but he could feel every beat throughout his body, a faint echo of his heartbeat in every limb. A soothing, fuzzy blanket wrapped around his mind as Keith kissed him. “Whatever is happening, we’ll do it as a team.”

“Yeah,” Lance agreed, “A team.”

Screaming bright light spiked into the forefront of his mind.

-

Keith stared in shock at his former teammates, battle-worn and exhausted. Bags under their eyes and sweat matting their hair as they looked up from the deck with various amounts of desperation.

His chest felt tight, strained. The roaring in his ears must have drowned out what they really said. Because there’s no way—

He can’t be—

“I’m sorry, what?”

Shiro massaged his brow, sighing like it took everything out of him. “We need you to bring back Lance. The Galra will be back with another army for the Hyplisians at any minute and we’re doing all we can to stand the line until the coalition comes.”

“Lance is missing?”

“He was taken by the Galra,” Hunk said, the regular smile he wore gone from under the pain, the guilt. Pidge leaned against him not looking at anyone and furiously typing on the tablet in her hands biting her lip until it was white. “If we could’ve just—“

He looked away, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as Pidge silently took his hand, blinking away her own tears.

Allura stepped up her eyes and mouth tight at the edges and, despite the weariness, still filled with determination. “With your connection with the red lion you should find him easily. We are in the JHK 07923 galaxy.”

It’s not too far from where he’s already stationed. He looked back at where the Marmorians were plotting out the infiltration for another supplies ship.

He was halfway to the hanger when he said, “I’m on my way.”

-

Lance flung onto his back screaming. Hands to his eyes as stabbing pain erupted right behind his them, his vision turning white.

Distantly he could hear a voice, somewhere far away. Background noise for the screaming deafening everything else. He couldn’t answer. He couldn’t hear them. He could only dig his nails into his skull until the prickling pain and the drops of blood could give him something else to focus on.

In the whiteness, he could see flashes of washed-out color. Purples and blues and pinks. A memory of a scent. Something burning. A tang of metal.

Blood.

_good team_

_good team_

_A warm hand in his_

_Keith_

_we did it_

_screaming_

_burning metal_

_no_

_no not them_

_not pidge_

_a gun in his hand_

_head t h r o b b i n g_

_a burning down his back_

_agony in every cell_

_a clear shot_

_we did it_

_Keith holding his hand_

_purple blue_

_pink_

_red_

_buzzing screaming_

_a smile_

_we are a_

_good team_

“Lance!”

Hands grabbed his face, finger stroking his temples, relieving him of his headache.

He sighed and sank into the hands. The pounding in his temples diminishing with every flick of Keith’s fingers.

A forehead pressed into his. “Are you with me?”

He grabbed Keith’s hands and pressed them closer to his skin. “Yeah,” he breathed, “I think so.”

“What was that?”

Lance shook his head, never leaving contact. His eyes squeezed shut. Purples and yellows flashing behind his eyelids. He opened them to focus on Keith’s indigo eyes. “I don’t know. A nightmare.”

Soft lips lingered on his.

“Maybe a nap wasn’t a good idea. Let’s go for a walk on the beach.”

“Beach?”

“Yeah,” another kiss to the head, “I’ll get some aspirin before we go.”

Before he could say another word Keith was already gone.

He scrubbed his hands over his eyes, releasing a shaky breath. A walk sounds nice. A beach walk is even better. Warm waves washing over his feet as they sink into the wet sand. Sun beating down on his shoulders.

But the niggling feeling wouldn’t go away.

A warning. An instinct. His gut twisting in knots at the thought of going to a place he loved so much.

Something that wouldn’t let go of the thought that he hasn’t lived near a beach since Cuba.

And his school was in Arizona.

His brain rebelled, filling his thoughts with dates with Keith walking along the beach, seagulls cawing overhead. Going down late at night to watch the stars dot the night sky over the ocean. Stopping by to get garlic knots by the boardwalk. His siblings chasing each other over the turf.

Every single memory in picture-perfect clarity. Just joy and fun, no tourists or—

“I got the aspirin, are you ready to go?”

Lance jolted, heart racing like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Yeah, yeah.” He got up and swiped his hands over his shorts, reaching out to take Keith’s hand. “Let’s go.”

-

“Do _not_ make that mistake again, Emrys.”

Emrys bowed his head, their mask nearly touching the paladin laid out in front of them. “Of course, sir.”

His senior flowed quintessence from his fingertips weaving the lines above the paladin’s head to calm the disruption in the manipulation. The paladin’s face smoothing from the apparent pain from before. Its mind was surprisingly strong for such an infantile species.

“Stop searching through its memories.” His senior’s words were clipped. Cold. And brokered no argument. “With the Influence in place it shall run its course. We do not want to upset our Mistress.”

A cold shudder ran through him. He could almost feel the quintessence in him collapsing at the thought. “Of course, sir. I just thought the memory would make it happy. It held a lot of great fondness towards it. I thought a fragment—“

 _”Enough_.”

Emrys drifted away at the command.

The Influence secured, his senior turned to him. Dark purple quintessence still absorbing into the flimsy skin of his hands. He raised himself above him, towering over him until Emrys felt his feet touch the ground. His senior did not deem himself low enough to bend down. His voice booming past his mask.

“We require the paladin to be complacent in its own mind. Connecting its memories only complicates the issue.” A telepathic link forced his mind down, to obey, to serve. He let it, but only just.

“You’re only here because of your talent with emotional manipulation,” his senior hissed down at him. “Erase Voltron from its mind, do not use memories from its time with Voltron, do not use the _humans_ from Voltron. Are we clear?”

Emrys hesitated, head bowed, feet on the ground. “Should I erase the existence of the former black paladin?”

His senior lowered himself, his robes entering his line of sight from where he kept his head bowed. “The former black paladin is required for this operation. He shall stay. Stay _away_ from the memories from Voltron. The former black paladin is already slotted into the romantic role, the red paladin’s mind will take care of the rest.”

“Yes, si—“

The alarms brayed from above. Red lights blinking on and off in the dim room. Emrys looked to his senior, awaiting command. The telepathic link leaving him.

“Stay here. There has been an attempt for the red lion. The others will require my assistance.”

He could feel the immense pressure that his senior gathered for his teleportation in an instant. Showcasing just how powerful he was, not even utilizing quintessence but the raw energy given to them from their species.

“If you misstep one more time I will destroy your corporeal form myself.”

And he was gone.

-

It was a beautiful day. Perfect, really.

The sun was out and there were the perfect amount of clouds in the sky. Full and fluffy that would give the right amount of intermittent shade to keep the sun giving them heatstroke. It was warm and comfortable and there were barely any tourists, he and Keith practically had the beach for themselves.

It was everything he imagined.

He shoved back any weird thoughts he had because everything was _literally_ perfect. Instead of dwelling on the weird things his brain was doing and making absolutely no sense he should grab onto this moment while he can.

The day was beautiful, they were at a beach, _and_ he’s with the guy he’s been crushing on before he even knew it.

And that _boyfriend_ was holding his hand, smiling at him like just looking at him made him happy. Because looking at Keith certainly made him happy. From the bickering and fights about things he honestly can’t remember. To growing closer and being there for each other to—to…

…to now.

To standing side by side, worrying about nothing except what to order when it’s their turn to get ice cream. ~~wait what did they even need to worry about~~

He tightened his grip on Keith’s hand and, just because he wanted to, brought up his hand to kiss the knuckles. Cradling ~~cradled~~ it in both of his.

It drew a smile out of Keith. “What was that for?”

“Just because,” he answered with a smirk.

That hand left his to cup his cheek and run a thumb under his eye, soft as a whisper. “Dork.”

 _”Your_ dork.”

Keith rolled his eyes, refusing to play his game and left him to get ice cream. But he ordered for the both of them and he paid so, honestly, Lance won in the end.

They were walking along the shore, finishing off the ice cream and holding hands. He could feel the salt crust on his skin and the stickiness left on his fingers from the ice cream. He tried to remember if they did this before. There were vague memories of them walking down the beach but was it this beach? Did they get ice cream? How many times did they have a beach date?

He turned to Keith his eyes far away ahead of them, lost in his own thoughts. A bump to the shoulder brought him back, smiling at him, eyes crinkling. “Yeah?”

“Be honest with me, did I, like, have a head injury before we came here?” ~~no no wrong~~

Keith pursed his lips into a cute little pout. And Lance has half the mind to abandon whatever he was talking about just to kiss it. “Not that I know of. We had class then went to our dorms, I picked you up and we came here.”

 ~~where is here~~ “Oh, okay.” Lance tried to stamp down the questions rushing through his head. He didn’t want to ruin their date but he still ended up blurting, “Do we know a Pidge?”

“Hm?” Keith looked at him, face screwed up in confusion. “No, why?”

“Nothing.”

He could feel Keith’s questioning stare boring into the side of his head. Turning to him, he smiled. Pidge was probably from some sort of movie or someone in passing. His boyfriend didn’t look anymore reassured so he bumped his shoulder with his.

“Mind telling me how this—“ he held up their joined hands—“happened?” ~~~~

His boyfriend’s face relaxed, shoulders dropping. He laughed, a soft chuckle before tightening his grip. “I don’t know. We just seemed to click—“ ~~wrong~~ “—we had classes together—“ ~~right~~ “—and after a bunch of fights—“ ~~right~~ “—we just… fell into it, I guess.” ~~ri—~~

~~wro—~~

~~.~~

~~.~~

Lance smiled, giving in to the urge and pecking Keith on the lips. He sighed at the sweetness of his mouth and the slight tackiness of their lips clinging to each other. “Yeah, but did I take you out on dates? What was our first date like?”

He shrugged. “Just like this I guess, hanging out, holding hands,” he shrugged again, “I don’t know.”

Lance groaned, nearly bending backward in his dramatics. ~~why is he so reluctant~~ “Come _on_ , Keith! Gimme the _details_.”

Laughing, Keith pulled him into the shallow water of the ocean, the warm waves lapping at their shins. “Fine, Jesus,”

They waded further into the warm water, his shirt and shorts sticking to him but he couldn’t care less when Keith was looking at him with that glint in his eye. When they were waist-deep Keith linked their fingers together, palm-to-palm.

He didn’t look at him, keeping his gaze somewhere near his collarbone but he was smiling. “We were in my dorm and watching movies on your laptop and—“ he shook his head a little helplessly, smile deepening like he couldn’t help himself “—I don’t know. You just kissed me.”

Lance gently butted his forehead against Keith’s, catching his eyes. “Yeah?”

Endless deep pools of blue stared back up at him. “Yeah.” Keith closed his eyes, giving Lance’s poor heart a break, and drew closer until their noses touched. “Almost like you couldn’t help yourself anymore. You almost took out my tooth.”

He spluttered, rearing back and pushing Keith away, chest and shoulders shaking from restrained laughter. “I would _not_! Sure! Maybe a little eager but I would _not_ take out your tooth!”

“I said _almost_!” Keith laughed, eyes crinkling up at him. He reached forward making his way to wrap his arms around his waist. “Don’t worry, I liked it.”

“Okay, are you into some weird kink stuff I shou—“ he choked off when he got salt water to the face. His eyes stung, burned along with his throat where it snuck into his mouth. He laughed, only making the burn worse, and blinked away the saltwater as best he could.

When his eyes cleared he could see Keith, eyes narrowed in on him, hand at the ready, hovering threateningly over the calm sea. “You wanna try that again?”

Lance let his arms fall open, reaching out to invite Keith back in with a grin. Which was probably ruined by how his eyes still burned and he was squinting. “Keith, oh eternal love of my life, will you please tell me more of our burgeoning love story?”

Keith snorted, non-threatening hand going up to cover his grin. He waded through the water to fit into Lance’s arms. “I _meant_ , I liked it because it felt like a long time coming? Like it was the next step in our relationship and you were thinking about it just as much as I was.” He shrugged arms going around to rest at his waist. “I felt wanted.”

Honest-to-God Lance felt his entire chest fill with a warm fuzziness, buzzing around inside of him in some sort of confused mixture of happiness and delight. And before his love felt like it was a fact. Yes. He was in love with Keith. Yes. He was in love with him for who knows how long. But, now? He could really _feel_ it.

Every molecule of his body lit up in this deep _knowing_. So much that his chest hurt. He’s not sure how he actually managed to have him fall in love with him too but he’s going to fight for it with all he has.

His hand cupped the back of Keith’s head, fingers sliding through wet hair. He leaned forward, a hairsbreadth away, Keith’s breath fanning over his lips and making them tingle in anticipation. “Can I kiss you? I promise not to knock out your teeth.”

He could feel his breathy laugh against his mouth before sinking into the kiss.

And for once, there was no voice.

-

Emrys curled his lip in disgust as he watched over the human. There was no real use in him being there. After the initial ritual, he just had to steer the paladin’s mind deeper if it got too close to the surface.

Although, he thought as he drifted closer, the paladin’s face relaxing as it delved deeper into the crafted fantasy, it was like his superior said. Its mind was taking care of the rest.

He was a glorified babysitter.

Clenching his fist, enough that the strings of quintessence quivered, he restrained himself. He could _revolutionize_ this. Take it from something so simple to something _extraordinary_.

He just…needed… to _experiment_.

The quintessence lines quivered, as if telling him they’re ready. His hand reached out, plucking at a string, feeling the particular thread woven into its world. Something so fragile, doing its job in tempting it to stay within its perfect world, but imagine how all the more enticing it would be if it were strengthened.

Before he could do any more tweaks the quintessence shifted around him. He vaporized and rematerialized, a sword slashing through the air where he just was.

A blade member faced against him and he had to roll his eyes. They are a primitive species. The galra were a single-brain-celled war-mongering species in of itself but the blades are even worse for thinking they have a chance standing against their Mistress.

Manifesting a ball of energy he threw it at the member. They dodged but it was no matter. It will tire soon and it’ll only expend more energy. A galra is only slightly more difficult to deal with than a human.

It attempted another attack, one that he easily dodged. Flying around he shot a stream of energy at the back of the blade member, pounding him into the floor, its cries audible past their ridiculous mask.

Ha! It was too easy. Perhaps it was less glara than he thought. And all of this while the quintessence links was still activated.

Perhaps…

He flew forward. Hand reaching out to crash the blade’s head into the floor, hearing it cry out as the mask dropped. Dark quintessence forming around his hand like a claw, caging around the blade’s skull.

Oh!

Glee filled his chest cavity. He has heard of laughter, mostly in primitive life forms, but he might indulge in the feeling.

Another human. The former black paladin, in fact. He could see the effects of the quintessence on him, purple splotches creeping up his neck glaringly telling of his galra half.

“Perhaps _you_ , would like to be my experiment, little human?”

He clenched his hand tighter on the back of its head, feeling out any strong emotions. Anger. Righteousness. Fear. Bah. What’s _interesting?_

The purple grew as the little galra fought the quintessence. But he paid it no heed. Even if it was galra it was still _human._

He dug deeper, trying to find the roots. What exactly was this little human afraid of?

 _Oh,_ what is _that?_

It moved and he dematerialized.

The little blade got up, chest panting, his blade a knife, and his eyes frantically flicking around trying to find him. Emrys needed to be careful, its galra half might be able to sense him and if his corporeal form were interrupted it that would be it.

“Careful there, little human, your galra is showing.”

Its eyes flashed yellow, narrowing in on him and slashing. He drifted out of its reach, appearing behind him. “You don’t want to scare your little human would you?”

He circled above it, smiling behind his mask. He held up the hand tethered to the human. “One move and it wouldn’t matter if your human wakes up, it’ll _hate you_. And you wouldn’t want that would you?”

The thing growled. It was so cute he had to laugh.

He flew at him, hand clawed with quintessence, knocking it back. Again. And again. And again. How pathetic. It had to be the galra’s fault they were not winning this war. Not when the opponent is so _easy_.

It didn’t even take much. Taunt a bit, hit a few nerves and it was completely blind to everything. He laughed and materialized over the prone paladin, taking it by the armor they never bothered taking off and shook it like a rag.

“Right now it’s in its perfect world.” He laughed, the sound raspy and unused. The sleeping paladin not even registering the offense, its face slack. “One that you almost ruined. Because it couldn’t stand mere _thought_ of you when everything was so perfect.”

“Don’t you dare touch him!”

Emrys laugh ended with a gasp when he felt something pierce his chest, dropping the paladin to the table with a thud. His corporeal form cracked around the knife in his chest, he could feel his power corrode him from the inside out, no longer contained and frantic to find a way out.

In the mere seconds of his body bursting in a shower of light and energy he could only barely grasp at the idea that he was destroyed by something as pathetic as a quintessence-less _human_.

-

Lance sighed as he held a sleeping Keith to his chest. His dark hair gritty from the sea air but it was still soft. He nuzzled closer, breathing in the smell of the sun on his skin and the salt in his hair.

Fuck. He loved him. He really, really loved him. And he loved him back. They were in _love_.

The day was just perfect and while the beach was amazing and it filled something deep in his soul ~~why~~ what made it perfect was spending time with Keith. And somehow, even though they went to the same school and went to the same classes, it felt like he missed him.

He was just that gone for him.

Lance brushed back Keith’s bangs, kissing his forehead, the sky painted in pink and orange streaks above them.

For the first time that they got home he was relaxed. There wasn’t something screaming at him in the back of his mind, no headaches, no confusion. There’s just the sunset, the ocean, and the man he loves. If he could stretch this moment out forever he would.

“Well, you can’t.”

He looked up and saw no one. He frowned, looking around them. The beach was completely abandoned. No one else was around.

“Hey! Over here!”

Gently, he set Keith down on their beach towel, his hand automatically going to his hip. ~~why why why~~ “Who’s there?”

“Over here, idiota.”

The tide pool?

The sand was cool under his feet as he walked over, eyes on the alert for anyone or anything he might’ve missed but he still doesn’t see anyone. Despite the leftover warmth from the sun a chill settled in Lance’s bones, a stone dropping to the pit of his stomach.

He did _not_ have a good feeling about this.

There was something in his head screaming at him to stop and ignore it, go back to Keith and go home like nothing happened. But he couldn’t stop his body from moving forward, heart pounding, and his hand _still_ at his hip like he has a _gun_ in his swim trunks.

His mind yelling at him that he was crazy. That he was acting insane, he was just hearing things. To go _home_. Yet, he _still_ moved forward because it felt _important_. ~~it was it was important keep going~~

The sand shifted to the rocky landscape of the tide pools, the sun dipping lower on the horizon, the shadows growing until Lance could barely make out the little creatures in the pools.

No one was there.

He crouched down, poking at a starfish in the oncoming darkness, his reflection staring back at him.

“God, I have officially lost it. Now I’m hearing voices.”

“Maybe you should listen.”

Lance leaped back, a shout caught in his throat. His reflection talked back to him. _His **reflection** talked **back** to him._ He did not say those words and his reflection—was getting out of the tide pool?!

A head emerged from the still waters, his same chestnut brown hair plastered to his head, bowed as if to keep the salt water from getting in his eyes. His reflection climbed his way out like he was getting out of the deep end of a pool and not a little puddle.

It shook its head, saltwater flying and hitting Lance, paralyzing him, because _he could feel that_. Are you supposed to feel hallucinations? _Can_ you feel hallucinations? He’s pretty sure he’s _not_.

His reflection smoothed his hair back, taking care to keep the water from his eyes. “It’s about time you listened to me. I’ve been trying to talk to you all day.”

Lance stumbled back, nearly tripping over the rock and started to speed-walk back to Keith because this was _not **happening**_.

He clutched his head in his hands, fingers clawing and digging at his scalp. Another set of footsteps followed him and he refused to look back. Because no. No no nonononononono—

“You can’t ignore me!”

“NO!” Lance whirled on himself, which was the weirdest thing that happened to him and he’s been to _space_ —wait. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to block out the specter in front of him. “I _can_ and I _will_.”

He stabbed a finger at himself, ignoring how he could feel the dip of skin and muscle, the warmth of a body. “You are just a figment of my imagination. You are not _real_.”

The mirror-Lance took his hand and he felt like throwing up. The grip was firm and he could feel his own gaze on him, his—their?—eyes dark and serious. “I’m just as real as you are.”

Bile burned the back of his throat when he pushed him, hard enough that his doppelganger fell back onto the sand. _“No_. You’re _not_.”

He ran back to Keith, kicking up sand in his wake. He didn’t hear the other him behind him and it was both comforting and unnerving. He banished those _what if_ thoughts before they could take root. _He_ is real and it’s _all in his head._

Keith was sitting up on their towel, rubbing his eyes and smothering a yawn. Something inside Lance instantly calmed. Rushing forward he tackled Keith back, wrapping him in a hug and steadying himself on Keith’s grounding presence.

“Whoa!” Keith gasped, laughing a bit. Arms twined around his middle and Lance breathed a sigh of relief. “Missed me much?”

Hugging him tighter Lance muttered, “Yeah, yeah I did. I miss you a lot.”

“You _miss_ me? I’m right here.” Keith drew back, hand up to cup the back of his neck, playing with the baby hairs there. “What’s wrong, babe?”

Lance shook his head. “Nothing. Let’s just—“ He got up and tugged Keith along with him. “Let’s just go home.”

Lance felt jittery when he walked through the door. His nerves strung a little too tight like he had something to hide. But maybe he does.

“Ey, tonto, how was the beach?” Rachel called from the living room.

Lance kissed Keith on the forehead. “Mind waiting for me upstairs?”

Keith’s brow furrowed, eyes darting from him to the living room. “…Alright?” He gave him a nervous half-smile. “Should I be worried?”

Lance plowed through the uncertainty gripping him by the throat like a train. “Nah. Just need a talk with the sis.”

“Okay,” a kiss to the cheek, “good luck.”

He waited until Keith was up the stairs before heading into the living room; his sister sprawled across the couch with a book. Stalling, he leaned against the doorway tapping his fingers on the wooden frame in an annoyingly loud rhythm, waiting for her to look up.

She did. Her face deadpan. She sighed with her whole body, shoulders moving with the strength of it, her book closing with a loud _snap_. “What is it?”

“Rachel,” Lance hesitated, rubbing his fingers against each other soothingly, “Can I… talk to you?”

She looked at him weird, which, yes. He was being weird. “Is this about me?”

“No, no, it’s just… I don’t know.”

“Alright,” she moved over to pat the spot next to her, lounging over the back of the couch. “Talk away.”

He sunk onto the couch, cracking his knuckles and trying to think about how he wanted to say it. _What_ he wanted to say. “I think… I’m really confused? Or anxious?” He laid a hand on his heart and on his stomach. “I don’t know. I just feel _wrong_ right now and I think my brain is all messed up and everything seems _too_ good y’know? And I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong—“

She cut him off, hand held up to stop his rambling thoughts. “Is this about Keith?”

“Wha—? N-no, not really but he’s, like, a part of it I guess?”

She gathered herself up, shifting on the couch crisscross before nailing him with a look. “Could it be that you’re scared of where your relationship is going? You guys used to fight all the time before you got together. Like, maybe, with how good everything is it’s making you anxious.”

Lance’s stomach twisted. The mirror-him in the back of his mind. “It’s _more_ than that, Rach. I just—something feels _wrong_. _I_ feel wrong.”

Rachel set her hands on his shoulders, staring at him so intently it was almost a glare. _”Nothing_ is wrong with you, Lance. Hermano, everything is great right now. You’re with Keith, who makes you happier than I’ve _ever_ seen you and you’re home with us. We got your back.”

She pulled him into a hug and some of the tension melted away. He still felt like he was a little queasy but he has his family with him. His familia. Whatever is happening with him they’ll get through it together.

He sighed, pulling back. “Thanks, Rachel.”

“No problem.” She flopped back onto the couch, reaching for her book. “Now go back to your boyfriend and let’s end this gross sibling bonding.”

Chuckling, he left. Halfway up the stairs, he heard

_Lance_

He stopped. “Keith?”

Keith was still in the room.

_please_ _wake up_

_Lance_

His hands flew to his head. Headache back worse than ever, like a drill boring into his brain right between his eyes. There wasn’t any screaming but there was a high-pitched ringing that only got louder and louder louder _louder_

somewhere past the ringing and pain was a whisper

_come back_

-

“Can’t we just pop him in the healing pod?” Pidge asked, gnawing on her thumbnail. Lance too, too still on one of the tables in the med bay. Crackling bands of quintessence were still wrapped around his head like a crown of thorns.

Coran sighed, forlorn. “I’m afraid not number five. This isn’t a _physical_ injury. The healing pod wouldn’t help.”

“Can’t Allura help?” Hunk proposed, worry creasing his brow. “I-I mean, she has all that magic-quintessence stuff right? Maybe she could heal him like she did with the Balmera and those other times?”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Hunk,” Allura said as she walked through the door. “I don’t understand nor fully control my powers. As something as delicate as manipulating quintessence of the human mind… I fall short.” She bowed her head, lip white between her teeth. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re doing the best you can do,” Shiro said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’ll just have to find another way. What did the coalition say?”

She shook her head. “No one in the coalition has any information on this type of quintessence. It seems to be specific to Haggar’s druids and they, themselves, are a mystery.”

“The,” Keith cleared his throat, “the druid that I fought said something like I, uh, almost _ruined_ the… thing? That the thought of me almost ruined the spell they put on Lance.”

Pidge snorted, drawing everyone’s attention. A sad little smile graced her lips, chuckles still escaping. She waved away everyone’s attention. “Sorry, sorry, thought of something not relevant.”

“What was it, Pidge?” Shiro asked, gently.

She huffed out a laugh and looked at Lance on the table, crossing her arms. “Nothing important, I just thought of something Lance would’ve said. It’s probably not appropriate.”

“Okay, now I’m really curious,” Hunk stated, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Pidge pursed her lips together before caving, hands held up defensively. “Okay, okay, I just thought that Keith should kiss Lance to break the spell.”

While Keith turned bright red, the rest of the team burst out in chuckles and laugher.

Hunk wiped away a stray tear. “Okay, but that sounds like something he would say. Probably would be a bad pick-up line.”

Pidge lowered her voice. “Hey, baby, did you put a spell on me because I think I need true love’s kiss.”

She and Hunk howled with laughter. Hunk gasping for breath, arm around his stomach. “Okay, but that actually sounds like something he would say!”

Shiro chuckled, hands on his hips. “It does sound like our blue paladin.”

After the laughter died down and Keith’s face looked like it wasn’t going to pop a blood vessel Allura said softly, “I actually miss his ridiculous flirting.”

“He’s not dead,” Keith snapped. He looked at Lance, fists clenching. “He’s right _here_. _Alive_. Stop talking like he’s already dead.”

There was a pregnant pause, Pidge’s mouth opening and closing like she wanted to retort but couldn’t find the words. Shiro walked over to where Keith was by Lance’s side, pulling him into a half-hug.”

“Of course he’s not dead. From what you said, it sounds like we just need to trust him to come back to us.”

“I’ll go check the coalition’s database again,” Allura said. “There has got to be something in ten thousand years about these druids.”

Pidge hurried after her. “I’ll go with you.”

Hunk sighed when they left, hand massaging his neck as he looked down on his sleeping friend. “So there’s nothing we can do now? We just have to… wait?”

“For now,” Shiro said.

Hunk scrubbed his hands over his face. “Ugh, I hate this. My best buddy is _trapped_ in this _mind fuckery_ and I can’t—“

He sighed, looking more lost than ever and Keith wished he could help. Some magic words or intel to tell him that Lance was going to be all right but he wasn’t so sure of it himself.

“I’m just going to go try and bake something. Anyone want to join?”

“I’ll come,” Shiro offered. To Keith, he said, “Try and rest, okay?”

Keith flushed, cheeks heating up for no reason. The _implication—_ he shook his head. It wasn’t the time for that.

Worry churned in his gut, a sick nauseous feeling mixed with helplessness and anger. He crossed his arms, trying to keep it together as his mind filtered through regrets and fears.

Regret that he wasn’t there sooner when they needed him. Regret that he didn’t talk to Lance more. Regret for not _saying_ —

 _Fear_ of Lance never waking up. Fear that he will just stay in his mind for eternity. Fear that he’ll never come back. Fear that he’ll hate—

A hand was on his arm.

He looked up to see Coran with sad eyes and a sympathetic smile. “I love him too.”

It took a minute for Keith to try and find the words, the _breath,_ for that statement before Coran was guiding him towards a chair next to Lance. He went around and pulled up a chair on the other side, reaching for one of Lance’s hands. “Let’s give him something to fight for shall we?”

Throat tight, Keith nodded. “Right.”

Scooting his chair forward he held Lance’s hand, the skin papery and dry, somehow not as soft as he remembered and it makes him wonder at the changes that happened since he’s been gone. Still, he held tight.

He leaned forward, voice just above a whisper. _”Lance, please wake up.”_

-

Lance tried not to scream. His family is there. Keith is upstairs. He doesn’t want to worry any of them. But not screaming only makes him all the more aware of the ringing and the blinding pain in his head. The whisper of that familiar voice on the edge of his consciousness, softening the sharp edges of his mind to a dull ache.

_Lance_

_Lance_

_Lance_

_Lance_

_Lance_

_Lance_

“You hear him don’t you?”

Heart stopping, head whipping up, his doppelganger is crouched in front of him. He nearly falls down the stairs if it weren’t for the hand bolting out to latch onto the front of his shirt.

His own face stares back at him, eyes twinkling, grin on his lips. “You hear him don’t you?”

There’s a rapid staccato in his chest. Scrambling up he hurries up the steps bypassing the fake. “No, no I don’t.”

The fake-Lance skidded in front of him, eyes bright and excited. “But you do! Come on! This place isn’t _real_. Out _there,_ with _him,_ is real.”

He jerked back from the hand reaching for him. “What are you talking about? _This_ is real and _you_ are just a hallucination.”

Fake-Lance, surprisingly, let him pass. And he — _him_ , the _real_ Lance— was still tense, shoulders aching. It felt as if he was waiting for him to say something else. But what? And what did he hope he would say?

“You know something is wrong.”

And for god-knows-what reason, he stopped. Stomach churning and hands shaking. A hand gently turned him around, hovering over his shoulder hesitant before landing and squeezing gently.

“Come on,” Fake-Lance’s voice was soft, pleading, “you know none of this is real. You have to go back. They need us.”

“Who even are you?”

He smiled. _”We_ are a paladin of Voltron.”

-

In Keith’s hand, Lance’s fingers twitched.

“Coran? Coran! Lance moved!”

Coran jumped up, his chair falling back. He raced out of the room calling back, “Keep talking to him, I’ll get the others!”

Keith was already on his feet, his hand gripping Lance’s chanting his name.

-

“A… paladin.”

Fake-Lance nodded.

The pounding drummed even harder, radiating from what felt like the center of his _brain_ to right between his eyes. He sucked in a breath, hands going to press against the pressure points above the bridge of his nose.

Dreams flickered through his mind. Fantasies and daydreams about giant robotic cats and space and aliens and princesses and swords—

He hunched over, heels of his hands bruising his eye sockets as he tried to push away the pain.

 _“Fight_ it. I know you know about Voltron. You _remember_.”

Lance pushed the other away, spots of light dancing in front of his eyes. “Stop it! No! I don’t! I don’t want to!”

The other Lance stepped forward, grabbing him by his shoulders. “But you do! They need you, please, Lance. We have to go back.”

Tears spilled over, whether from the pain or something else he doesn’t know. _“No,_ ” he snapped. “They _don’t_ need me. And—and I’m happy here. I miss them.”

“I know you do,” the other Lance’s voice cracked. “I do too, but what about the others? Pidge and Hunk? Allura and Coran? Shiro?”

Lance’s entire body twitched. Those names like bullets, leaving behind sore and open wounds.

“They need you too. The _universe_ needs you. Who’s going to pilot the red lion? Who’s going to take care of them? Someone needs to be there to remind them we’re all family.”

Tears burned their way down his cheeks, blurring his vision and stinging his eyes. Throat closing up he croaked out, “I miss _my_ family.”

Arms wrapped around him and held him tight. Distantly he notices his headache subsides but is too wrapped up in how the other Lance is squeezing him. His voice tight as his own tears leak out. “I know, I _know_. Trust me. But we _will_ see them again. And not in a dream and _after_ we make sure the universe is safe.”

More tears leak out as he claws his hands into the back of the other Lance’s shirt, hiding his face into the fabric. “It’s just… _so_ hard.”

“Yeah, it is. But we can do it.” The other Lance pulled him back, his eyes red-rimmed with tears. He smirks. “Since when were we ever known to take the easy way out.”

He garbled out a laugh, wiping away the leftover tears with his sleeve. His face was itchy from the salt, throat sore, and nose clogged but his chest felt lighter than it had in a long time.

That feeling instantly evaporated when he heard a “Lance?”

He turned around to see Keith walking over to him, brows furrowed in concern. His hand reached out to cup his cheek, thumb swiping away the tear tracks still on his face. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

With wide eyes he looked over at the other Lance, his face twisted in a wince. “He can’t see me.” Steely blue eyes locked onto him and—oh…

“He’s not—this isn’t…”

A sad shake of his head.

He could feel his heart splinter, the shards stabbing into his lungs. His breath quickened as he fought to find air.

“Lance, what’s wrong?”

He shut his eyes so he couldn’t see him. Yet, his face still pressed into the hand at his cheek. Why couldn’t he just _have this._ “ I—“ his voice broke.

Keith quieted him with a kiss. And he let him, letting his lips linger. “How about we just go cuddle and take a nap, yeah? Come on.”

“Lance, _no_ ,” the other him stressed. “If you stay here any longer we’ll be trapped here. We have to get to the red lion _now_.”

“But—“

“We gotta _go_.”

“Lance?”

“Lance!”

_Lance_

_Wake up, buddy_

_please_

_Lance_

_come back to us_

_We need you Lance_

_Lance_

_Lance_

_Lance!_

With one fleeting kiss to Keith’s lips, he fled for the door.

He ignored his siblings’ shouts as he ran, the confused cries of his niece and nephew. The door somehow extending and getting farther away the closer he got. His hand just grabbed the doorknob when his mamá appeared.

“Mijo, where are you going?”

He choked on his breath, hot tears burning the back of his eyes before spilling down his face. He wrapped his arms around her waist and took one last breath of home.

“I miss you.”

He opened the door and ran.

-

He’s having some trouble breathing. He can feel his face swell from crying and how sore his throat is and it makes no sense to him. He was somehow in his mind but he still feels the heartbreak of leaving all the same.

The fact that it’s all fake doesn’t make it hurt less.

It still felt like he was choosing space over them. Choosing the universe over his own family. And no matter how much he tried to tell himself that choosing the universe meant choosing his family it doesn’t stop the _want_. He _wants_.

He wants to stay. He wants to go home. He wants to be happy. He wants to love. He wants and wants and _wants_.

But it’s selfish. It’s cowardly. And he can’t do that to either of his families.

The cave is chilly and damp. The soft _plip plip plip_ of water dropping echoing around the cavern. Should it worry him that he doesn’t remember getting there? One minute he’s in his house hugging his mother goodbye and the next he’s in Blue’s cave.

Who’s still controlling this reality?

The other part of him was gone. Disappeared after he left Keith. He didn’t know where but he really could use some reassurance that this _was_ all some dream and that he really was doing the right thing.

He slips and slides his way down the cavern to where Blue was. Carefully making his way down the slide they all fell through when they first left. He didn’t exactly know where he’s going but his body seems to know. He knew just when to duck and step until he finally made it to the cavern.

Red was where Blue was. Sitting dormant, eyes dark, as he waited for his paladin. As he stepped closer the eyes lit up, force field shutting down as Red lowered his head and opened his mouth. Waiting for him.

He walked over to Red, feet leaden. The scuffle of his footsteps echoed in the cavern, the sound lonely.

“You don’t have to do this.”

That was… not him.

He turned to find Keith staring at him, pleading with his eyes. He stood frozen as he approached, letting him take his hand.

“You can stay,” Keith whispered, “with me. With us.”

Behind Keith members of his family faded into existence. Each and every one looking at him like he was breaking their hearts. From his dad to his siblings, even his cousins and uncles and aunts. His mom…

He looked away when tears formed, slipping down his face like it was second nature.

“I—“ His heart yearned. It was _so_ tempting to just stay. Stay and not worry about the state of the universe. To not have all those lives depending on him. To live as a normal teenager with a normal boyfriend and normal friends where he doesn’t have to _lose_ anyone.

But there was a voice. Inside him this time. Telling him that he was important and valued and _loved_. He had another family depending on him. Who needed him just as much as his family back on Earth. And he’s realizing that they’re _both_ just as important to him. _Every_ single one.

“You wouldn’t have to miss me here.”

Lance felt his shoulders drop, hand tightening on Dream-Keith’s. “But I do. I still miss you. And I’ll miss the team too. I can’t—I can’t stay.”

Tears started falling from Dream-Keith’s eyes and it felt like a fist around Lance’s heart. He cupped his cheeks, marveling in the back of his mind how he can touch him. And how _real_ it felt.

“Listen to me,” Lance said, knowing that what he was about to say, what he was about to promise, was for himself. He closed his eyes and vowed, “I will help save the universe. I will protect my families. I will ask Keith to stay and I will make this dream a reality. Keith and I will have that beach date and Pidge will be there with my siblings gagging at how sappy we are. Hunk will be swapping recipes with my mom. Shiro will be sleeping somewhere and Allura and Coran, _everyone,_ are going to be there. In the future. Happy.”

Gentle hands guided his down. Dream-Keith smiling, eyes sparkling with tears. “That sounds nice.” With a sigh Dream-Keith pushed Lance towards Red, hands still lingering on his. “See you in the future?”

He kissed the back of his knuckles and squeezed. “See you in the future.”

In Red’s cockpit, he could see Dream-Keith and his family fade away, waving goodbye. He breathed deep, determination in every cell. On his exhale he took off.

-

The team is huddled around Lance. Everyone in contact in some shape or form. Keith and Coran both holding onto his hands, Hunk right next to Coran a hand on Lance’s shoulder while the rest were gathered around his legs, waiting for him to get up.

It was slow going. After the initial twitch, Keith felt they’ve been waiting around for hours. Some took shifts for food and breaks, even Coran, but Keith stayed next to Lance the entire time, too afraid to let go of his hand.

When the quintessence wrapped around his head started to fade away Keith shouted for the others. Slowly each vine unraveled and faded like they never existed.

Now, all the vines gone, they were gathered around him praying for him to open his eyes.

Keith started stroking his thumb over Lance’s hand. “Come back, Lance, come on.”

“We have to be patient, Keith.”

“I _am_ being patient! He goes and gets himself captured and gets trapped in this… mind thing, for days! And now those quintessence things are gone and he should be waking up now!”

The hand he was holding tightened on his. “Careful, Mullet, I might start thinking you like me.”

“Lance!” everyone shouted, converging on him.

Hunk got to him first, using his position and strength to sweep Lance off the table and into a bear hug. Keith could hear bones cracking past Lance’s groans.

Lance gingerly returned the hug, lips smacking together before making a face. “Aw, gross, why does my mouth taste like food goo.”

Coran extracted Lance from Hunk’s arms to give him a much gentler hug and a stiff pat on the back that almost sent him toppling into Pidge.

“Had to keep you alive somehow, my boy! Food goo has all the necessary vitamins and nutrients for a growing paladin along with being seventy-five percent water! Warm it up a bit and it just slips down your throat like a Gaiomarian Slug!”

Lance turned a little green, swallowing hard enough it made his Adam’s apple bob. His face the picture of polite disgust.

“Don’t worry, buddy I’ll get you something to eat. Shiro and I baked at least five different cakes, thought two of them were burned.”

“I didn’t—! I just—!” Shiro sighed, wrapping both Lance and Pidge, who was attached to his side hiding her face, in a hug. “Glad to have you back, Lance. It was a little too quiet without you.”

Shiro gave Keith a pointed look when he left, which he _pointedly_ ignored. Coran declared something about making a feast in celebration and sprinted out and Allura, after getting her hug, just up and left with _another_ look that he will not acknowledge. Leaving it to just him and Pidge and Lance.

Pidge’s voice was muffled as she spoke into Lance’s shirt. Lance holding her and combing his fingers through her hair, nodding.

She drew back, wiping her tears away with the back of her hands, glaring at Lance. “You can _not_ do that again.”

“Sorry, Pidgey-pie, don’t think I can promise that.”

“No,” she stabbed him in the chest with a pointy finger. “You will not do something stupid for at least a phoeb do you hear me?”

Lance raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll _try_ not to do something stupid for a phoeb.”

“Good.” She made a disgusted sound and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “I’m going to go and get those allergy pills Coran gave to me I’m getting hayfever from your dream-coma ass.”

“We both know it’s not allergies you little gremlin.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m gone.”

Keith watched as she left. Not knowing what to do with himself. He didn’t want to leave without… reassuring himself. But he didn’t know how to go about doing that. Are they even at a point where they can just casually hug?

“I, uh, pushed Green out of the way and got cornered. Think she feels guilty.”

Lance was staring after Pidge, hand at the back of his neck, pensive. He walked over to where Lance was leaning against the table, biting his own lip at the guilt for not being there for the team. He crossed his arms, staring down at his feet. “She was really worried. We all were.”

He was so silent Keith started to think that the dream trap did something.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.”

His heart jolted, shoulders stiffening. “Uh, yeah… I’m here.”

“How come? I-I mean you were with the Blade of Marmora on some super-secret, super cool spy mission, right?”

For whatever reason his stomach felt weird, twisting up but not unpleasantly. His mind thought back to Shiro and his _implications._ The _looks_ he and Allura gave him. He re-crossed his arms.

“I left the mission. I got a message from the team about you missing and—“ he shrugged. “The Blade and I got you out, you were still in that—whatever it is. So you probably don’t remember.”

“I don’t, but thanks. I’m—I’m glad you’re here, Keith.”

He looked over, seeing those familiar blue eyes and that smile he only saw a handful of times before. Keith felt a string tug at his chest, the butterflies stirring. When Lance smiles at him like _that_ , his entire focus is on him.

“Me too.”

Lance gave a nervous chuckle, which was weird because Keith doesn’t think he’s ever really seen Lance nervous before. He took a deep breath and groaned, “This was so much easier before.”

Keith furrowed his brow. “Before.”

Lance sighed. He wasn’t looking at him. “Keith, I—I think you should stay. Here. With Voltron. And not go back to the Blade.”

Instinctively he shook his head. “Lance—“

“Bup-up-up,” Lance shouted waving his hand in his face until he went cross-eyed “Nope, you gotta hear me out first before you make a decision. Okay?”

Lance got up and Keith could only follow. “Okay…”

An arm wrapped around his shoulders, bringing him into Lance’s space as they walked. “Great! Now let me tell you this weird dream I had…”


	2. the future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years!!!
> 
> I told you guys that there would be an epilogue huehuehue
> 
> Also, I'm not the first one to say this but: canon is dead and none of that nonsense is happening here.

He woke up slowly. Mind fuzzy and eyes bleary. Black hair obscuring his vision and the scent of salt and sun in his nose. Reflexively, he looked down, taking note of his sister’s old pink cloud sheets and relaxed.

He shuffled closer to bury his nose at Keith’s neck, relishing the sunny day smell that always clung to him. The musky, organic smell of his hair and sweat relaxing him even further.

Keith was warm and solid in his arms, a grounding sleepy presence that grumbled in his sleep and turned around to cuddle closer. His face fit perfectly in the crook of his neck and Lance couldn’t help but smile at the slight furrow in Keith’s brow.

Gently, he stroked away the tension with a finger. Watching how it smoothed out and feeling Keith’s warm breath sigh out against his collarbone.

After three years Keith never stopped being the best thing in his life. It didn’t start out easy or nice but they wore their own places into each other’s lives. There were still a few bumps but Lance honestly couldn’t imagine life without them. It made everything feel a little more real.

“Keith, babe,” Lance whispered into Keith’s hair. “We gotta get up.”

“Mmn?” Keith slowly blinked his eyes open, the fog clearing as he looked up at him. A hand automatically went to Lance’s cheek. “Y’kay? Bad dream?”

Lance took the hand Keith placed on his cheek and placed a kiss on his palm. “No, I’m fine. We have to get meet everyone today, remember?”

Keith groaned, flopping on his back. “Shit, I forgot.”

Laughing, Lance patted Keith on the shoulder. “That’s why you have me. Now come on.”

-

They met everyone downstairs, bags packed and ready to go. _Way_ too many people crammed into his parents’ living room. It was designed for one giant and rowdy family, not two.

Pidge saw them first, decked out in a beach hat, jean shorts over a green one-piece, and a rainbow beach ball under one arm. She grinned, hand cupped around her mouth for maximum annoyance. “It’s about time you slowpokes got down here!”

“Honestly, Lance,” Allura tutted when she walked over, the small crowd parting for her like the red sea. “What happened to being on time to training? Every time we all meet up you two are late.”

Lance sputtered. “Excuse me! Are you implying it’s _my_ fault?” He gestured to Keith who was looking on with an amused smile. “It’s Keith’s fault we’re late! And another thing! We’re not training, Allura, this is supposed to be a _vacation_.”

“Uh, I disagree,” Keith butted in, a mischievous smirk making its way across his face. “It’s definitely Lance’s fault, he took forever to pack.”

“Betrayal!” Lance screeched, pushing Keith away only for him to laugh at him.

“Leandro!” A stern voice snapped. “Don’t treat your boyfriend like that, I raised you better!”

Mamá was already sidled up to Keith, arm wrapped around his shoulders. She glared at him, lips pursed in a disapproved pout, while Keith silently laughed at him.

As soon as he introduced Keith to his family his Ma practically adopted him, taking his side for everything and… coddled this edgy, space-war veteran that has blown up a gazillion battleships and people. Which, okay, he can understand, Keith _deserves_ some coddling and all the love he can withstand—and he does. He soaks it up like a fucking sponge. But it’s only fair if Krolia took his side on things too, _but she doesn’t_. She’s too much of a neutral party so…

…yeah. Not fair.

But Hunk, his main man, still had his back. Deftly sliding in and sweeping his Ma away, gushing about how good dinner was last night and asking about the recipe. Which, good luck to him, because whenever his Ma says anything about the amount of ingredients she always says “the right amount” and he has no clue what that means.

He sighed, cracking his neck as he looked out into the mass of people milling around. There were so many to keep track of, even for him. Friends and family alike, from Earth and from space. “Are we going or what?”

“We were waiting for you, Leandro, we’re taking the Black Lion, right?” his sister, Veronica, asked. She looked pointedly at Keith next to him who was engaged with a talk with the princess and his mom, who crept up.

“You didn’t have to wait for us to _drive_ , where’s Shiro?”

She threw her head to where Shiro was in the kitchen, glasses on and a “don’t bother me, I’m on vacation” shirt that he and Pidge got him a while back. It was the most minimal effort thing they got him, a plain white shirt with the saying printed on in _comic sans_.

Lance groaned again, grabbing Keith and towing him away. “Come on, you gotta boot up, Black.”

Keith didn’t put up much of a fight, letting Lance just drag him out back to get some much relief from the mass of people in the house. It was loud and overwhelming and everyone talked over each other.

God, he missed everyone.

“Why do I have to drive?”

“Shiro’s wearing his vacation shirt.”

“Aw, damn.”

-

It has been a couple of months since he saw everyone in one place. From space and from home. Obviously, Team Voltron needed to spend time with everyone’s respective families. But even his own family was a little hodge-podged together, Veronica off doing Garrison stuff along with Rachel and Marco. Luis and his wife took the twins to spend time together as a family, _which he gets_.

It just felt like something was missing.

Both of his families were missing and he just wanted a day with all of them together. That included everyone.

_Everyone_.

Everyone brought their families. The Garrett’s, the Holt’s, _his_ entire monster of a family. Even Shiro brought his parents along. Allura and Coran and Romelle decided to come, vetoing the rest of the Alteans but that would’ve been a riot.

This little get-together that started out as something just for the team expanded until there was a giant mish-mash of families where only half knew who the other was and vice versa. There were a good thirty people altogether, maybe more, he had no clue.

It was complete and utter insanity and he _loved_ it.

Black was the only one that could fit everyone comfortably.

They debated on going where because Lance was adamant about going to the beach. Since they got back Lance was with his parents and Arizona did _not_ have any beaches. Not that he knew of anyway.

Cuba was out. It was a pretty small island and the beaches would be really crowded anyway. There was also the matter of parking Black somewhere.

Luckily, Veronica and Sam pulled some strings and the Garrison hooked them up with a man-made uninhabited island that they could use for the day.

It was only Lance and Keith in Black’s cockpit. Keith because he was the pilot and Lance because boyfriend privileges.

Lance watched and Keith gently set Black onto the island, opening Black’s stomach for everyone to trickle out. An army of beachgoers that carried a range of stuff from coolers to umbrellas to surfboards.

A hand squeezed his.

“You gonna be alright today?”

“Of course, Mullet.” He brought the hand holding his up to his mouth, kissing the back. He played with his hand absentmindedly, voice dropping until it was just above a whisper. “Don’t worry about it, it was years ago.”

Keith turned in his seat, letting Lance play with his hand. “Lance, you freaked out when you saw your old sheets. I just… I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I _will_. Don’t worry; this is _way_ better than that stupid dream. Everyone I love is here. And you’re here, so, yeah. I’ll be fine.”

Keith was silent, gnawing on his bottom lip before tugging his hand out of Lance’s grip and using it to reel Lance in by the back of his neck, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “If you need anything let me know. I’ll give you a wedgie or something.”

Lance laughed, standing up and tugging Keith up. “Don’t worry, I think I saw Slav here somewhere. There’s _no way_ anything could feel too perfect with him around.”

Keith chuckled. “For Shiro’s sake I hope not.”

Just before they were going to exit Black Keith stopped. Holding on to his hand and looking at him in a way that melted his insides. “Lance, before we leave and we’re not left alone for the rest of the day, I wanted to say… I love you.”

Cheeks glowing red Keith walked forward to hold both of his hands in his, solid and real. Their fingers weaved together and he could feel every callus and scar that he got from fighting and the warmth of his skin.

“I am… so grateful for how patient you were with me and how you let me fall in love with you over the years. And since then I’ve just kept on falling. I love you and I’m _so_ glad I have you in my life.” Keith stepped forward to kiss him again. So slow and deep it felt like Lance was giving him part of his soul.

Lance gasped for air when they parted, foreheads touching and breaths mingling in the hot space between them. He could smell the mint of Keith’s toothpaste and the sun that still clung to him.

“That’s… one hell of an anniversary speech.”

He could feel Keith’s grin against his mouth. “Can’t let you get away with all of the romantic gestures.”

His laugh was breathy. “You win this round, Kogane, but mark my words I will sweep you off your feet.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really.” He punctuated his statement with one last kiss. “I love you too. Happy anniversary, mi amor.”

He led them out of Black, feet sinking into the sand and their family already setting up a fire for barbeque and playing in the water. Chest warm, he looked back to Keith. The braid in his hair already losing hold, the strands swaying around his face.

Squeezing the hand in his he said, “Let’s make the next year as good as the last, yeah?”

Keith gave him a little answering squeeze. “Better.”

With that they took off running.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, okay, there are a lot of confusing messages in here bc it's so iffy bc of the topic in general bc Lance is in a fake reality irl, which won't happen in OUR reality so like,,, , , ,, , I'm not trying to say that your friends and family will gaslight you (altho if they ARE like that and you know it that's a diff story) but with those trusted individuals, trust them to help you with reality and trust yourself if something feels wrong. Bc as much as anxiety sucks it does serve a purpose to protect you, a lot of the time it will just exaggerate mundane things but yeah. Just wanted to put that out there kdslfjdskl; 
> 
> Anyway
> 
> MERRY CHRISTMAS!!
> 
> My [tumblr](https://lxiewrites.tumblr.com/)


End file.
